I Travel Worlds With You
by Dark Rabbit
Summary: Is house-arrest the appropriate punishment for one who has only killed and maimed a few Midgardians? The All-Father thinks so, although he is willing to temper his justice with a little mercy at Thor's request. After that, it is Thor's challenge to see he can reform his wayward younger brother. And it is Loki's, to see if he will allow himself to be reformed.
1. Loki's Imprisonment

**It is Marvel Comics, not I, that own's the rights to The Avengers, and to the characters depicted in this story. I use them merely for my own enjoyment.**

**Special thanks to my co-writer on this: Daimeryan-Rei, you are the one who introduced me to this fandom. You are the genius of the longfic, and if it weren't for you this story wouldn't top 500 words.**

* * *

The chamber doors are locked. At first, Loki doesn't care. He returns from Midgard exhausted, and falls into a sleep so deep as to resemble enchantment. Everything is gone from his mind, the Chitauri, the mindless green brute who subdued him, his brother, who took him back to Asgard after it was all over. Loki sleeps. He rebuilds his energy.

When he wakes, he doesn't bother with the door. Why bother, he thinks? No one would be fool enough to ignore a detail that obvious. A tray of steaming food sits on the table. He eats. Again, his intent is to rebuild the energy he will need to escape. Because he is going to escape, he is sure of that. His intelligence and his arcane powers will see to it. His hunger sated for now, he pushes the tray away. He notes as it disappears, its purpose now served; oho, so the All-Father doesn't dare actually send anyone into his chambers, he thinks.

Loki's green eyes scan the room: Four walls, no windows... A narrow space under the door looks the most productive way to start. A wave of his hand, and he has become a lizard, small enough to go under the door. This is too easy isn't it, he thinks? And when he is turned away by a force of some kind in the opening, he is not surprised. He is also not surprised when he is turned away from the window in bird-form, and from the cracks in the walls, in spider-form.

He chalks it up as a learning experience. It is impossible that Odin could have created a force impenetrable to his sorcery. It's just a matter of thinking this through. He will get out. He'll get the control he can handle, which is all the control, power over Asgard and whatever other worlds may come along on the way. A few stupid fools and their inferior magic are not going to stop him.

* * *

Sleep was also been the first thing on Thor's mind as soon as he returned from Midgard, with the Tesseract in his hands and Loki, bound and muzzled, at his side. His brother's eyes showed exhaustion. Nothing was said between the brothers even if they had been able to, and Loki was accompanied to his chambers by guards, leaving Thor all alone in the hallway. He knew it was expected of him to see his Father right away, but his knees buckled. He was going to collapse on the floor if he didn't take care of himself, and instead he went to his own chambers, stripping off his armor and taking the cold, cold bath he craved. It had taken a lot of energy out of him, and he hadn't had a moment to himself the last few days. The Avengers, the Chitauri, Loki ...Loki... he put his head into his hands and breathed a deep sigh. What was going to happen now? What was going to happen to everybody?

So the next morning, he finds himself at the door to Loki's room. He doesn't know whether Odin or Frigga has spoken to him yet, or how Loki has spent the night. Judging from his haggard appearance after being pummeled by the Hulk, he needed his rest at any rate. Thor gently knocks at the door. Should he have spoken to his Father first? He has no idea about the restrictions Loki is currently living under. Odin has to have put some kind of bonds, or magical walls around these chambers to prevent Loki from escaping. Despite being rambunctious, Thor doesn't barge into the room, but waits for Loki to give his permission. None comes. Gently, Thor brushes past the door handle and discovers it is unlatched. Again, carefully, he pushes the door open, a little bit.

"Loki?" He asks. He almost wants to say, "Are you decent, brother?" but he changes it the last moment to "Are you awake, brother?"

* * *

A knock on the door. His brother's voice in the antechamber. Oho, Loki thinks, so the golden one has come calling has he? If Thor thinks he is going to find him defeated, he is mistaken. Slumped over the table a moment ago, the young Prince sits up straighter. He folds his hands and assumes a bland smile.

"Thor?" Typical of his brother: He comes in looking every inch the protective big brother (although he has to know they aren't brothers by now). He comes in looking like the chamber is his... Oh but yes of course, it is his, isn't it? Or it will be, and so will the whole palace, when the old man finally gives up trying to rule and passes the crown to him.

Cue the brotherly make-up music. The big one is worried, the littler one, well he must be suitably contrite, now mustn't he?

But then Loki never did do contrite very well. "You're here early, brother," he murmurs. "Did Father send you to make sure I hadn't escaped in the night?"

* * *

"Brother, please." Thor's voice is low, almost embarrassed-sounding. He doesn't really know how to 'handle' Loki at the moment: His brother looks sullen, annoyed. - He must have had a restless night, Thor thinks. "I've come to check on you."

"How are your friends? And the Tesseract? Still doing fine?" It troubles Thor when Loki talks like this, with polite words and barely veiled anger. You can fight hostility, he thinks, but what can you do with politeness, except be polite back?

"The Tesseract is where it belongs," he answers vaguely. "How has your night been, brother?"

"Stop calling me that," Loki raps out, but he's not surprised when Thor doesn't even bother commenting on it but only shaking his head. His... 'brother' will never stop calling him 'brother'. "I was tired, if you must know," he says. "I slept the entire night."

Stupidly enough, it seems to please Thor. Of course, big awesome brother was strong enough to probably not notice anything about the traveling between realms, and the weaker, little brother was tired and had to have a good night sleep.

"You'd better get back to Father and make your report."

* * *

"Loki, I wasn't sent here by Father. Unbidden, Thor pulls a chair out and sits down. He folds his hands on the table top. "I came on my own. I ...I wanted to talk to you, brother."

"I should be honored." Thor watches his brother get up. Loki crosses the room to lean on the windowsill. "One of the Avengers here," he says, "talking to me. And I only had to get defeated and beaten within an inch of my life to get it."

"You see before you a defeated man, Thor. Look at me. Look at this new home I have." Loki waves a hand, encompassing the little sitting room and the door, which leads, Thor knows, into the bedroom beyond. "Is it not suitable for one in my station? So comfortable, and yet so secure. You can go back and reassure your friends that I am safely stowed away. Tell the iron-suited one, or the one with the eyepatch. They'll be pleased, I know."

Thor clenches his fists. "Why do you do this, brother?" he says.

"Do?" Loki doesn't look at him. "What am I doing?"

"Why do you hide behind words this way?" Thor gets up. He wants to go over and shake sense into his brother, but he knows it won't do any good. Anyway, is it sense he wants, or just plain-speaking? "What is it you want, Loki?"

"I want nothing." Loki glares. Now he's getting some anger out of him at any rate, Thor thinks. Maybe his brother will be moved to say what's really on his mind for once. "I want to get out of here," Loki adds. "What do you think I want?"

"Sadly, I don't know what you think." He's on thin ice, he knows it. But Loki is a master in using words and Thor simply isn't as good with words as his brother is. Asking outright might set off a whole another rant, but Thor doesn't know how else to approach Loki. He doesn't hide behind words, he doesn't use them to either defend or attack - and Loki has mastered the use of words to perfection. To his perfection. "I have never been able to know what really went on in your mind. Brother, please -"

"Enough of that." Loki makes a dismissive gesture with his hands. "What more are you going to admit, Thor? That you never paid attention to me? That you think your big, brute strength is superior to my petty tricks?" He wiggles his fingers, a slight green energy flow surrounding his digits, only to die down seconds later.

"I don't understand why you're doing this." Thor shakes his head again, an almost familiar movement. "Why did you let go on the Bifrost? Why did you leave us all here?"

* * *

"Oh come on." Loki takes in a deep breath to shout. Then he lets it out with a hiss. "What did it matter to you," he says.

Silence. Did he push his bro.. Thor's buttons already? For some reason, it feels a little strange to see him silent, his muscular, strong brother. Loki feels almost a disappointment ...But surely that's just because he's tired of being alone in here.

"I'll talk to Father," Thor finally says. "Maybe there are other quarters more suitable for you, brother."


	2. The Door

**It is Marvel Comics, not I, that own's the rights to The Avengers, and to the characters depicted in this story. I use them merely for my own enjoyment.**

**Special thanks to my co-writer on this: Daimeryan-Rei, you are the one who introduced me to this fandom. You are the genius of the longfic, and if it weren't for you this story wouldn't top 500 words.**

* * *

"Loki? No!" Father doesn't just say it, he thunders it, his commanding, Kingly authority on full display. "I can't believe you would ask it of me son," he continues in a gentler tone. "This is not the first time your brother has offended: Seeking to destroy Jotunheimr, ripping holes in the fabric between realms... – How many Midgardians was it he killed in his attempt to take over their realm, Thor?"

"More than eighty" Thor mumbles past the lump in his throat. "And that was just the ones he killed himself." It was ill-advised for him to come here, he thinks. He should have known it. It's too soon after what happened. Father hasn't had time to relent yet. And Loki hasn't had time to be reformed, if reformed he can indeed be, by his punishment.

"You must see I can't let your brother out," Odin says. "He's shown how he uses power."

Power! Yes! "But he has no power here in Asgard. You're still King, Father. Here he would be only a prince like me."

Odin shakes his head. "No. I speak of his arcane powers, Thor. You know well how strong they are, and how much he can do with them. Do we dare risk having a sorcerer of his strength, and his current state of mind, loose in Asgard? Can you really be asking for that?"

Thor turns away. There's no chance, he thinks. He might as well give up. Why he bothered even coming on such a pointless quest is beyond him.

"I might..." Thor turns, surprised to see Odin hasn't finished speaking. "I might be willing to consider changing Loki's place of confinement," he says.

* * *

There is no one – No one! – who can get into this isolation that Odin has inflicted upon him. No Chitauri, no Asgardians, no fun little Midgardians for him to tease and annoy. Loki is not used to solitude, not this kind of solitude at any rate, where he has no studies or planning to do to distract himself. Thor's been his only visitor so far. Maybe he's the only one the All-Father is going to let him to have, Loki thinks. And then he falls to idly wondering how long it's going to be before another tray of food magically appears.

...Not that he's hungry. It's not his body that needs feeding, it's his mind. And, at loose ends, unsatisfied, he sits back down at the table. He'll wait there, and eventually something's got to happen to divert him. Either Thor will come back to fence with him again about their so-called brotherly status, or a tray will appear and he can pretend that roast meat and ale are the most fascinating things on earth again for a while. _Something_ will happen at any rate, though. It has to. He's a Prince of Asgard. He's always gotten what he wanted.

What happens, is that he falls asleep. Loki opens his eyes to find himself still at the table in the rancid little anteroom to the chambers Odin's given him. His arms are sore from the position he's been resting them in, and his face has a crease on it from the table. The room's gotten quite dim while he was asleep, Asgardian radiant day fading into Asgardian glorious night. ...Of which all he can see, naturally, is the threads of light that come through his shuttered window.

Loki lifts a hand. He conjures light in the torch-bracket on the wall. There's food on the table again, he sees. He has no idea when it appeared, but it's steaming and fresh, and will probably stay that way until whenever he gets to it. Odin has his faults, but he's not the kind to punish a prisoner by making him eat spoiled food.

He gets up, – Enchanted always-fresh food holds no appeal for him right now. – and heads into the next room. And it is as he goes in, that Loki gets the first surprise of his imprisonment. There is a new door. His bed chamber's never had but one door, and that, the one that leads into the anteroom. Now there is another on the outer wall. ...But why would there be an outer door, if he is not to leave the palace.

His curiosity is piqued. . A new door that's appeared out of nothing? What's going on? How could it have gotten here? Is this some kind of trickery, to make him believe in the possibility of escape, or does he have an ally in the Palace, someone who has used this magic to help him? He thinks of Amora, the enchantress who was his teacher of sorcery. That wench would do anything, he thinks, if she thought it was to her benefit. But would she go against Odin, and in so obvious a way as to set free a prisoner he's just captured? No, he thinks, and hope he didn't even know had started, disappears again. No, this is Odin's doing. For some reason, he wants Loki to open this door.

Instantly, Loki decides that he won't open it. If he must be Odin's prisoner here, he is not, at least, going to do whatever he wants him to do. He turns, readying himself to walk away. Then he stops, because after all, what waits for him back in the antechamber? There's just the four empty walls, and the trayful of steaming food on the table. He turns back, touches the door. He pushes, and it swings wide open.

Darkness inside it reminds him of the Void, where he met the Chitauri. The darkness and silence of it were enough to drive a man crazy. He never wants to see their like again. Loki pulls back, but before he can close the door on the emptiness, a faint a flicker of light appears.

Light, and the smell of flowers. Loki moves forward a little, and as his foot crosses the threshold, he sees the flowers materialize. He hears a waterfall and as he continues around a turn of the path (which also springs up as he goes further from the door), he can see it ahead. It tumbles down a huge mountain, to fall in a stream that runs beside the path. What sorcery is this, Loki wonders. He knows of noplace like this in all of Asgard, and even if he did, it would not spring up out of nothingness just because of his appearance.

This is a magical world then, and somehow his presence is influencing it. On impulse, he visions another scene, one as different as he can make it. Instantly, the flowers vanish, and he is standing amid the smoke and crowds of a Manhattan night club. Unbidden, a smile comes to his face. Whatever else Odin has done, he's managed to amuse Loki for the first time since his capture.

He goes up to the bar. He might as well see how complete the All-Father has made this deception. "Gin and tonic." A bartender slides the tinkling glass his way. He is, Loki notes, plausibly slow about getting around to it. And he waits around afterward, just as if Loki had any dollars in his pocket to tip him. Surprisingly enough, he does, he finds, sliding his hand into the pocket of a pair of convincingly Midgardian trousers. This time, Loki laughs out loud.

He stifles the laugh immediately, because by the gods, this should not be happening. He should not be in this prison, for prison it still is, whatever trappings of fantasy Odin may have added. He should be where _he_ wants to be, and doing what _he_ wants to do. Nonetheless, when a blonde in a red dress sits down next to him and starts flirting, he flirts back.

It entertains him for about fifteen minutes. Then he tires of having conversations with people who are, after all, nothing but Odin's enchantments. How far is he supposed to go with this, he wonders. Should he flirt with them? Have sex – Make a life with them? What satisfaction is a thinking man ever going to find, when he knows his companions are merely enchantments?

He scowls down at his glass. Odin must not think much of him, to expect him to be satisfied with the paltriness of this unreal world.

"Why the frown, handsome?" The blonde woman beside him is gorgeous, her body packed with curves, and her smile just slightly world-weary. If he wanted to, Loki thinks, he could have quite a good time pretending she really is who she seems to be. ...Or then again, he could just get stinking drunk on enchanted vodka and blot out the reality of his situation that way. Is there really any difference?

"Take your clothes off," he says suddenly.

The woman's eyes widen. "What?"

"I said take your damn clothes off. Are you deaf as well as stupid?"

When Miss New York Bar-Hopper doesn't respond for a moment longer, Loki takes hold of her dress at the neckline and rips. Might as well find out just how much realism Odin has given these things. The black lace demi-bra and thong panties he reveals are depressingly predictable. For a moment, Loki's tempted to conjure a knife and look to see if her intestines are also convincingly depicted, but what would be the point? Of course they are. He wills her and her whole world back into blackness. When faint flashes of Other Worlds try to conjure themselves as he walks past and back into his bedroom, he ignores them.

He sits down on his bed. "Fuck Odin and his games," he says aloud.


	3. Thor Visits

**It is Marvel Comics, not I, that own's the rights to The Avengers, and to the characters depicted in this story. I use them merely for my own enjoyment.**

**Special thanks to my co-writer on this: Daimeryan-Rei, you are the one who introduced me to this fandom. You are the genius of the longfic, and if it weren't for you this story wouldn't top 500 words.**

* * *

After talking to the All-Father, Thor feels a little restless. He wants to visit Loki immediately and see what changes Father has made, but he decides instead, to leave him alone for the morning. To tell the truth, his brother's skill with words intimidates him a little. He's used to smashing things, to proving his strength and prowess as a fighter. But he can't smash his way back into a good relationship with Loki. He can't force his brother away from his attitude of bitterness and rebellion. He can't walk in and demand things from him.

Thor tries his best to imagine himself in Loki's shoes - he must feel angry, unwanted, un-cared for. And now he's been confined to his own chambers to boot, it has to feel humiliating. But why doesn't he accept any help? Why doesn't he accept the love of his brother? He sighs. This is going to take careful steps, careful, small steps… and he shouldn't expect to see results immediately.

He has walked to Loki's rooms, almost out of habit. It's late in the afternoon now; his brother must be awake and lonely. Thor does knock, but doesn't wait for Loki's answer - Should there be any - but just walks in the door.

"Loki?" Strange that he's not in the antechamber. A small wave of panic: Could it be that he's escaped? No, he hears a heavy sigh from the bedroom, and Thor sticks his head around the doorpost, only to see Loki sitting on the bed, rather grumpy. "Are you all right, brother?"

* * *

His bed-chamber's dark. For some reason after he lit the torches in the antechamber, he forgot about the ones in here. And after leaving the Other World, he was too angry to bother. Now he realizes he's sitting here in the dark, only when Thor pushes the door open and pokes his head in, his golden hair back-lit by the torchlight.

"Loki!" In spite of himself, Loki feels a surge of pleasure when he sees his brother's face. Just like that, he barged in so many times during their boyhood, and always with a new adventure that would be nothing, he insisted, unless Loki came along. What happened to those days, he wonders. But men grow up, and unlike Thor he can't be satisfied adventuring just for the sake of the adventure his whole life. Odin understands that. He doesn't hare off on silly quests all the time, but stays here in the palace and makes the tough decisions. Why he chos Thor as his successor, instead of the son who didn't have to learn from scratch that rulers are supposed to rule...

Oh yeah that's right. He chose _his son_. Loki's brief smile fades, and he looks up at his brother with rather the same expression he gave Miss Bar-Hopper back in the Other World.

"It's dark in here," Thor comments, showing the brilliance that's made him the wonder of all the Nine Realms. Then, "are you all right, brother?"

"Me? Oh I'm just fine, just peachy." What's the point of taking it out on Thor, Loki wonders? Kicking a Golden Retriever would be more useful (and more fun). "I have all the time in the world, and _so_much relaxing to do."

"How are things in Odin's court, brother? Any important life-and-death decisions being made? Fandrall's still holding everyone with breath bated, while he chooses which serving-maid he'll bed tonight? And the Lady Sif, is she still castrating the rest of you with her superiority of arms?"

* * *

His face automatically turns into a frown, and Thor forces himself to relax his facial muscles. Loki only needs but a few words to make him frown, offended on behalf of himself, his family, and his friends. - How can one person use only these few words to make him feel so bad? It's not silver tongued, it's poison, and it hurts him.

"Everything is well, brother." He ignores the scowl on Loki's face when he calls him 'brother'. He's not sure whether Loki is feigning interest or is really interested. It's probably the former, but he chooses to believe it's the latter. "Fandrall is indisposed at the moment. He's been chasing the wife of a counselor, much to his own entertainment," he says. "Sif is as strong and fierce as ever, brother. " He doesn't ask whether Loki wants to see them. He doesn't need to, he knows what answer he will get.

Loki nods, his face filled with nothing but indifference. "Fandrall's Fandrall, in other words. Sif's Sif. – I suppose Thor's Thor as well?"

"And Loki..." He pauses. "Oh brother, have you heard? Did Odin tell you about his plan to keep me from getting bored in my prison?"

Thor winces from the venom in Loki's words, but then perks up. What is his brother talking about? Is this what Father meant when he talked about "changing his confinement"?

"What is it that Father has done?" he asks.

* * *

If you asked Loki why he is even bothering to show Thor the Other World, he would be hard pressed for an answer. It's such a baby-brotherish thing to do, bringing his new toy in hopes that big brother will add luster to it with his approval. And the World-Door is such a paltry toy, for one who has had armies, and nations at his control. And yet really, what else is there for him to do? Thor is another set of eyes, another set of reactions. If nothing else, his response may provide a momentary diversion.

Loki waves a hand. "Behold my new door."

"New..." Thor looks from the door to him, and back again. "But it's in an outer..."

"Oh don't fear, Odin isn't giving me my own way out of the palace." He throws Thor a sly look. "Not yet anyway." He throws the door open. "Behold my brother: My new world!"

* * *

Darkness looms, and at first all Thor can think is what is this? Is it one of Loki's tricks? He steps forward feeling a little tentative. Loki never used to turn his mischief against his brother before. But that was in the old days. That was before he tried to stab him, and destroy the Midgardian realm he loved.

Feeling very uncomfortable, he walks through the doorway, only to find himself ...standing in midair! The world materializes around him as he enters: Blue sky, fluffy clouds, the towers of a Midgardian city far below, and him standing there with the birds flying beneath him, while Loki, right outside the door, laughs in delight.

"You should see your face, brother!" Thor tries to take comfort from the fact that at least Loki isn't sitting on his bed sulking any more, but it's hard, looking into his expression of triumph. "You, the hero who flies to the rescue of all Midgardians in trouble! To be taken in by such a simple trick!"


	4. The Other World

**It is Marvel Comics, not I, that own's the rights to The Avengers, and to the characters depicted in this story. I use them merely for my own enjoyment.**

**Special thanks to my co-writer on this: Daimeryan-Rei, you are the one who introduced me to this fandom. You are the genius of the longfic, and if it weren't for you this story wouldn't top 500 words.**

* * *

A trick it is. Thor stomps, and can feel hard surface beneath his feet.

"I could let you fall if I wanted to," Loki says. Instead, he waves a hand and green grass appears underfoot, an orchard of ripe fruit growing to surround them. "This is my world, it is whatever I want it to be." Loki moves to sit on a stone bench that wasn't there a moment ago. He gestures around. "Be my guest."

Thor picks an apple. He crunches, and it is sweet and refreshing. "How kind of Father," he says.

"Yes." Loki frowns. "I can't be trusted in the real world apparently, and so Odin gives me this pretend one all my own. Like a child with his toy soldiers."

* * *

Thor takes his time to finish his apple, not wanting to take Loki's bait right away. _I can't be trusted in the real world apparently_… like a throw-away sentence, but there's so much meaning behind those words that Thor doesn't trust his impulsive tongue, and strains himself to eat the apple before blurting out: "You unleashed an alien invasion on Midgard and still you're wondering why you can't be trusted?" The truth is, he still trusts Loki, with every word he says, he believes him - because he's his brother, because Loki is Loki - and Thor can't make himself believe that his brother has changed.

"It's a world of your own," he finally says. "You can do with it what you want, brother."

"It's a prison." Loki's words are flat. "I was a prisoner-of-war as a child, and now Odin has me in prison again."

Thor stares. His brother's words are insanity. How can he misconstrue what's happened? How can he blame Father for the generous act of taking in a helpless baby? For forgiving him, when he could have punished him so much more?

"It's because my magic's stronger than his." Loki lifts a hand and the orchard vanishes. They're standing in the middle of a battlefield with bombs falling from overhead. "This little world of Odin's, with its variable landscape and it's infinite number of puppets. I could take your whole beloved Midgard and turn it into an Other World, Thor."

He brings his hand down and the battlefield vanishes. Now they're standing in dark emptiness, the door clearly visible to one side. "Odin knows I'd win in a fair fight," he says. "He's got to keep me locked up here."

It's crazy-talk. How can he even begin to answer it? "Because of your actions on Midgard," he says, "Father decided it was best to keep you apart for a while. We want the bonds between the realms to be calm and at peace. After what you did..."

"Mortals are fragile," Loki says dismissively."They die easily." He turns, facing Thor dead-on. "Odin doesn't like how I used my power, but it's _my power_. It's my choice how I use it."

Thoughts rush through Thor's head. He sees the Avengers strategizing, their human weakness strengthened by their resourcefulness and Stark's technology. He pictures his brother in Hulk's hands, tossed around like a helpless kitten. "What are you going to do," he asks Loki. "Keep attacking until you find another force that's superior to you? Is that really the only future you can imagine for yourself?"

"The next time, they won't be superior," Loki says, but he doesn't sound like he means it very much. He waves his hand again and the orchard returns, this time with a big dog lying sleeping at Thor's feet. Picking an apple, he sits down on the bench next to his brother to eat it. "At least this tastes real," he says. "Not like the enchanted crap they serve me in my cell."

Thor doubts that his father would provide even the meanest of his prisoners with 'crap' to eat, but he doesn't comment. He feels the restlessness and bitterness in Loki, and he tries his be understanding. He wants to know what goes on in his brother's mind, but realizes it's futile to even try - maybe Loki himself doesn't know even. It's anger though, that's certain, however calm his appearance may be on the outside.

He thinks back at his first days on Earth: Meeting Jane, Darcy, Eric, and getting accustomed to that strange realm. But more so, that moment when he saw Mjölnir and reached for it ...and being refused. That moment when he tugged on the handle, with all his mighty strength, and his beloved hammer was stuck, and refused to budge. He wasn't worthy. Is that the same feeling as what Loki is experiencing now? The frustration of something being out of your reach, and you can only hope to gain it? But Loki is still dreaming of it, still vying to reach it…

"You haven't given up your poisonous dream, have you?" He makes sure there's no accusation in his tone of voice. "You have come home, but you are still dreaming of victory and ruling over a realm with your superior powers."

"And you're still Odin's lackey." Loki's face has gone very white. What is he thinking, Thor wonders? It almost looks like he feels hurt, but how could that be? Why would he? "My powers are superior. Why is it surprising to think that Loki Laufeyson might rule over a realm?"

Loki stops dead, and his eyes grow very dark. This time Thor knows exactly what's bothering him. "I answered my own question, didn't I?" he says in a low voice.

"Brother, you must let go of it," Thor begins, and he puts out a hand to touch Loki's shoulder, but he doesn't have the chance.

"Thank you for visiting, Thor." Loki stands. His manner is quiet and polite, but he leaves no room for argument, as he ushers his brother to the door and then out into the hallway. "You're always so interesting. And you tell so much more than you think you do." Thor finds the door shut in his face before he exactly knows what's happening. He wonders what's going on, on the other side. What would he see, if he could look at Loki now?


	5. Odin's Playground, and What It Can Do

**It is Marvel Comics, not I, that own's the rights to The Avengers, and to the characters depicted in this story. I use them merely for my own enjoyment.**

**Special thanks to my co-writer on this: Daimeryan-Rei, you are the one who introduced me to this fandom. You are the genius of the longfic, and if it weren't for you this story wouldn't top 500 words.**

* * *

Life proceeds apace at the palace. Everyone has their duties and their various pleasures to attend to. No one talks of Loki to his brother, and sometimes Thor wonders at this. How is it that his brother is forgotten so easily? Is there none that misses him even for a moment? None who so much as thinks of him?

He continues visiting himself, fearing Loki will be completely alone if he does not. The familiar route down the hallway, the tap at Loki's door that is never answered, followed by the small push that makes the door swing open under his fingers. How can everyone else pretend that this is normal, Thor asks himself? Are they resigned to his brother – _Odin's son_! – being a prisoner forever?

Today, he finds his brother reading. There are no books in his chambers. Father, who has done so much to provide for all his son's material needs, somehow failed to foresee that he might want for some. But Loki has found a way around this: His Other World is now a library, supplied with a desk, a good lamp, and shelf after shelf of books. As Thor enters, he looks up.

"Ah, the good son." Coming from Loki as he is now, this is practically a warm welcome. Thor wastes just a moment mourning for the days when his brother's greetings were natural and hearty, like his own. Then he greets him back.

"Ah, the perpetual student." He grins and slaps Loki on the back.

Loki's returning smile is cool. As he stands, he waves his hand, causing the library to be replaced with the orchard which has become their usual meeting-place. The big dog that greets him every time he visits, has become a fixture. This time he is joined by a pair of powerful-looking horses, that graze in the pasture beyond.

"Those are some mettlesome steeds," he comments.

"Mettlesome indeed," Loki murmurs in return. His gaze follows the horses, running past them, one and all force and energy, their condition impressive. Thor follows Loki's look, wondering what his brother means. The dog had been just a whim of Loki's, but there's more to the horses, isn't there? Thor thinks he can see a hint of longing in his brother's green eyes. He longs for his freedom, Thor thinks, that's why he's showing me the steeds.

The orchard looks beautiful as usual, with ripe fruit on the trees, a soothing, small stream of clear water crossing a landscape, that is nothing but perfect. It's a paradise, yet a prison. Thor's heart aches. Loki is walking in front of him; they usually walk and sit down afterward to talk. Without his battle armor, he looks almost vulnerable, if it's not for the hardened look on his face. Loki is still so closed-off, he thinks, and he wishes he could find out know how to get his brother to let his guard down.

"This won't take forever," he blurts out. In fact, the All-Father hasn't spoken on how long Loki is to be imprisoned. Loki turns around with that disdainful look on his face, showing he knows exactly what Thor is talking about.

"Forever is subjective," he says. "Odin doesn't care, he thinks he has his disobedient war criminal of a son nicely under control and provided with 'entertainment'. Why should he make any haste unleashing me?"

"It's not like that, brother." Thor shakes his head. "Please, try to understand that your actions were very grave by Midgard's standards, and now that there's an actual connection between our realm and theirs, we have to be diplomatic if we want to keep peace."

"Peace!" Loki snorts. "Who marched into Jotunnheimr and took whatever he wanted, including a helpless baby? Who marched into Jotunnheimr years later, also to get what he wanted?"

Thor flinches. "I have changed, brother."

"You've changed all right." Loki stands still, arms folded, staring into the distance, where the horses run free. "Your Midgardian wench saw to that. Well I have changed too, brother," he says. "I won't be satisfied any more, with being Thor's satellite."

His ...what? "It's not like that." Thor realizes he's repeating himself.

"Never mind." Loki turns. Thor's surprised to see that he is smiling. – It's an angry smile perhaps, but a genuine one for once. "Let's ride!" He swings his hand out, encompassing the horses and the endless fields beyond them.

If Thor hesitates at all, it's from confusion, and it only confuses him more, when his brother – _His brother_! – claps him on the back. "Come," he says, "is the great Thor going to let Loki lead for once? This is my playground." – As he speaks, he is up and over the pasture fence. He moves, boots and riding apparel appearing as he nears the horses. – "My gift from the beneficent All-Father. Am I going to have to play with it alone?"

The horses are as powerful as they look. Strong, well-winded, they take the brothers far, across plains larger than anything in Asgard, and then deep into a mountain canyon fragrant with herbs and wildflowers. Thor lets his brother take the lead, himself riding behind and pondering at the mercurial nature of Loki's moods. He couldn't have always been like this, could he? He remembers nothing of these swift changes, from anger to cheer and back again, from when they were growing up.

Loki reins his steed next to a small mountain stream. He loops the rein over the low-hanging branch of a tree that appears right where it is most convenient, then turns to look up at Thor. "I am hungry." For someone who balked so at this Other World when Father gave it to him, he certainly has learned to use its advantages, Thor thinks, as his brother materializes a fishing pole and tosses it to him. "Come, let us catch some dinner."

"Very well." Loki is in such good spirits that Thor doesn't want to deny him anything. Besides, the fresh fish will be a nice change from heavy boar meat.

The mountain stream is as clear as glass, the afternoon is perfect, sunlit and cool. Both search out a good spot and within minutes, two fishing poles are hovering over the water.

"Why Midgard, Thor?" Loki's question takes Thor by surprise, but he hears no animus in it. It sounds like the friendly question any brother would ask another.

That doesn't make it easier to answer. "In what sense?" he says, stalling for time.

"It's not the woman." Again, his words feel perfectly harmless, so harmless that Thor can't help looking over at him just to be sure. All he sees is his brother rolling his shoulders, as if unburdening himself of a world's weight. "There are women aplenty here in Asgard."

"Ah, but they're not Jane Foster." As always when he thinks of his Midgardian friend, Thor's heart melts, and longing fills him. It troubles to hear Loki, of all people, talk so lightly of Midgardians, but this truce with his brother is barely beginning. "Have you never been in love, brother?"

Loki doesn't answer. The only sound for a long time is the stream rippling, the faint sound of birds in the distance. Thor feels a tug on his line. He whips his fishing pole upward, and lands a fine trout on the grass. "By Odin's beard," he says, "we feast tonight."

"That doesn't look enough to feed even you," Loki snorts. "You want me to get you out of this predicament. – _As usual_." It takes but a pass of his hand, and fish start coming to the surface of the water.

"Sorcery brother?"

"Nonsense." Loki wastes no time, scooping fish out of the water with his bare hands. "I merely charmed them a little." Soon enough lie on the grass to feed a veritable army. "To answer your question," he adds, "no. I've never been in love. I did learn how to charm from a past mistress of the art however."

The sorceress Amora. For the first time, Thor finds himself wondering if that malicious creature was a fit influence for an impressionable child. This is not the time to bring it up, however.

As the afternoon wanes, he and Loki feast on fish spit-roasted over a wood fire. They ride back the way they came, with the gold of the sun safely hidden behind a mountain, and sunset lighting the clouds pink and gold and purple. A few, very few stars show in the darkening sky as they arrive back at the pasture. They dismount and, startlingly, their horses simply disappear behind them.

"The advantage of magical horses," Loki says, but he doesn't sound like he feels any advantage in them. "No feeding, no grooming, and they never need exercise except when you want to ride them." He stands facing away from his brother again, and the weight that is usually in his voice is back again. After the hours with his brother, Thor doesn't half mind the thought of going back to the palace and spending the evening with his friends. Now he feels guilty for that feeling.

"Yes, this is a prison," he says, "but not one with four walls and a barred window. If you can only learn to accept it, brother. Just show Father that you've found some peace in this world..."

Loki interrupts. "That again? You'd better go," he says. "You're starting to repeat yourself. Get back to your drunken friends, who won't notice."

Thor swallows the insult to his friends. "Brother, if you're sure?" He goes to put his hand on Loki's shoulder, only to have it shrugged off.

"I'm sure."

Loki walks his brother out of the Other World and shuts the door on it. Back in his cell, the torches are already lit, and a tray of steaming food sits on the table. As he leaves, Thor wonders if his brother feels the same tension he does at being in there. Unlike him, he thinks, Loki always has to go back.


	6. A Second Door

**It is Marvel Comics, not I, that own's the rights to The Avengers, and to the characters depicted in this story. I use them merely for my own enjoyment.**

**Special thanks to my co-writer on this: Daimeryan-Rei, you are the one who introduced me to this fandom. You are the genius of the longfic, and if it weren't for you this story wouldn't top 500 words.**

* * *

The next few days find Thor busy, run off his feet helping his father with palace business and diplomatic meetings, then finding his much-earned rest in feasting and play-combat, with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, good friends who also deserve his attention. He hasn't forgotten Loki, but he has his own life, and obligations that extend beyond the walls of his brother's cell.

When he finally stands in front of Loki's door again, Thor wonders if his brother will be angry with him for not visiting. Has anyone visited in his absence? None, he thinks, if the universal silence on the subject is anything to go by. Thor heaves a sigh. It is a burden to be sole protector, and of someone as fragile – As _vulnerable_. – as Loki. He touches the door. As always, it swings open under his fingers. He can't really be the only one who's visited, can he? But surely someone would have mentioned it if they had done.

As always, he finds the outer chamber and the bedchamber empty. The door to the Other World stands open, and Thor sees the towering, dark shelves of his brother's library. Loki's desk is spread over with books open to various pages, and he is writing busily, copying notes with a Midgardian laptop computer that looks laughably out of place.

"Brother, I offer you my apologies," Thor starts, deciding that it would be better to apologize than to tell Loki about being busy. His brother would think he was only making excuses, he fears. "I should have sent you notice that I…"

"Thor, is that you?" Loki's hand shoots out, closing the lid of the computer before Thor can see what's on it. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Let me clear all this dusty mess away." Thor's familiar with the rules of the Other World by now. It doesn't startle him when the library disappears to be replaced with the orchard that is their main meeting-place. Loki smiles a genuine smile. "Surely I can put Odin's toy to a better use on such a beautiful day."

It's always a beautiful day in the Other World. ...Or, it's always whatever kind of day Loki wants it to be. Thor realizes suddenly that he has no idea what that might be, when he's not here. He wonders whether he should wonder about that, thinks about all the places Loki must have seen, all the things that must have happened to him while they were apart, after he fell from the Bifrost. How many more changes are there, than those that appear on the surface?

"What is to your taste today, brother? Do the steeds need our attention do you think?" Loki waves a hand and the two horses graze opposite, in a pasture that was not there a moment ago. "Would you prefer archery?" Targets and a pair of fine bows appear on the grass. "Or perhaps coursing?" Two greyhounds, richly caparisoned, join the Golden Retriever, who is following them as usual.

Thor is silent. Normally Loki tells him what they will do. Now he's offering choices?

"Come, brother. Are you surprised to find me in a good mood? Am I normally so morose?" Loki laughs. "You're the one who always counsels me to show the All-Father that I can change. Is it so shocking that I should take your advice once in a while?"

Well yes, actually. Coming from his know-it-all brother, yes it is, Thor thinks. He has no time to ponder it though, as Loki tosses one of the bows his way.

"I fancy these arrows." He conjures their quivers as he speaks. "They are fashioned after the pattern of the best craftsmen in Asgard." Gloves and arm-guards appear as he moves to stand facing the target (Thor finds, looking down, that similar equipment has materialized for his own use). Loki takes aim and shoots, a worthy shot, landing just outside the bull's eye.

He looks at Thor. "Let's see if all your carousing has left you ready to compete."

Thor's ready at once, and if he was going to question his brother's unexpected good mood, this challenge has driven it out of his mind. It's actually not entirely fair he thinks, as Loki has always been better with long-distance-range weapons than he. He preference is for the vast strength of Mjolnir of course, but he's a pretty fair swordsman as well. Archery takes precision and patience, which have never been his best skills. He's summoning all he can now, though. He tells himself he doesn't care if he beats Loki, it's enough that they're both having a good time. But he still feels a sting of disappointment when his arrow lands a good inch further away from the bull's eye than Loki's.

Loki grins. "A shot worthy of ...Volstagg," he says, referencing most careless of the Warriors Three (and the one most given to carousing; his brother knows how to add sting to a joke, Thor thinks). He raises his own bow. "Well, I don't if I can improve on that..." It's teasing, it's actual teasing. When was the last time he heard Loki tease like this, Thor wonders, and when he thinks about it, he realizes he can't remember back that far.

The bow comes up. Loki's arrow lands just inside the bull's eye. "Oh look," he says, "I guess I did after all. You're not losing your skills in your old age, are you brother?"

"Have a care." Skills! Now he is being bested at two sports, for Loki is his superior at raillery as well. And is he supposed to think of clever things to say, and aim his shaft at the same time? Thor concentrates, and manages to land his next shot right next to his brother's first. "Ha!" He steps away from the target. "You may apologize to your older brother now."

"Not over one good shot, I won't."

Thor's "one good shot" turns into two, and then from two into four. But his brother's teasing rattles him. It feels like he's trying to do two things at once, coming up with clever banter, and concentrating enough to aim carefully as well. Loki's shots meanwhile, are getting more perfect. He aims and fires them off with cool concentration, then turns and makes his witty comments as though he doesn't even have to think about them.

"Next time, we wrestle," he says, pulling his shafts from the target, after Loki has quite resoundingly beaten him.

"Oh no, no, no, no." From a distance of twenty feet, Loki conjures his own arrows back into their quiver. "Skinny little me, against big hulking you?" He waves a hand and all their equipment vanishes, and a table appears, spread for lunch. "Next time, a shape-shifting competition."

Thor laughs. He's seen his brother's magical skills in serious combat, but somehow now, on this beautiful day they're sharing all he can think about is the times he's seen him use them in play. The time he changed the wine into serpents. The day he changed all Father's greyhounds into kittens, right before a hunt. He sits down at the table, which groans with food in a truly Volstaggian manner. "Is skinny little you prepared to handle all this, brother?"

Joining him, Loki fills his mug with ale and drinks thirstily. "Skinny little me can handle himself." He makes no competition of it though, but just eats and drinks steadily with Thor, until both their appetites are satisfied.

"Why sorcery, brother?" Last time it was Loki that asked questions. This time Thor feels comfortable enough in his brother's good mood to do the same.

Loki looks quizzically at him. "Why? I might as well ask you, why Mjolnir?"

Thor thinks about his Hammer. He remembers being taught to use a war-hammer when he was a boy, how it felt natural to hold one, and all the skills of combat seemed to come more easily. He remembers the exaltation just of holding Mjolnir for the first time.

Some of that must show on his face, because, "that was how my first successful enchantment felt, yes," Loki says. He stares into the horizon, toward the blue, blue of the afternoon sky, and the deepening shadows as the sun grows lower behind the mountains. The silence between them stretches longer, but it is a comfortable silence. Thor feels no need to break it. He finds himself staring off as well, gazing at nothing, his eyelids growing a little heavy, in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

When he sees the door, he almost doesn't notice it at first. Then when he does notice, all he thinks is, "well, there's the door back to Loki's chambers." Only that never appears until they're ready to leave, does it?

Thor can't remember the Other World ever looking anything but consistent. Either it's a room with a door, or it's the outdoors, bounded only by the horizon. This mixture of two-things-at-once is jarring and unnatural. He leaves the table. Maybe it's the angle he's sitting at that's keeping him from seeing the house the door belongs to? Maybe because there are too many trees in the way?

"So restless." Seated, Loki watches him with a look of dreamy contentment. "What are you looking at?"

"This." Thor rattles the door-handle.

"This ...What?"

The door's unlocked. Instead of answering his brother, Thor undoes the latch. It swings open, and the dust and emptiness inside surprises him; he'd half been expecting to see his brother's chambers. "What witchery is this?" he murmurs. "Is it a second Other World?"

"You'd best ask that of Odin." Loki's up, and he's already conjured away their feasting-table. His good mood seems to be fast vanishing, Thor notes with regret, and he wishes he had never seen the cursed Door. "The All-Father is the one who decides what I can and cannot have in my captivity," Loki says. "My place is only to accept it and give my humblest gratitude."

"Humble, right." Thor turns back to look at the door again, but it's already gone, and as he watches, the entire orchard vanishes, and they are standing in emptiness. Another Door appears, but this one he knows. This one is already open, and he can see the torchlight flicker in Loki's bedchamber through the doorway.

"What would make a door appear like that, brother?" With the Other World gone suddenly unwelcoming, Thor moves to his brother's chambers. He pulls the chair from his small writing desk close and sits down, looking up toward Loki.

His brother frowns, looking more irritated than thoughtful. "I told you." His voice is flat, abrupt. "Ask Odin. It's obviously one of his little games."

"But it was all dark." Thor sits pondering the mystery. "And with nothing inside. When he gave you an Other World before..."

Loki snorts. "If I'd done it," – His eyes flicker, so fast Thor's not sure he's seen it. – "it would have worked right. Come, am I to explain Odin's inferior magic to you as well as everything else? Go ask him yourself." He opens his chamber-door and gives Thor a meaning look. "Go now. I am sure he'll be oh-so-delighted to explain it to you."

His brother's good temper is completely gone, and it's a pity. There's food enough for both of them on the tray on the table, and a pitcher of ale as well. They could have sat up half the night and discussed this and perhaps gotten to the bottom of it. This business of Loki, of all people, not wanting to pursue a mystery, and him being the one who does want to is out of place in the world as he knows it, just as that Door was out of place in the orchard in the Other World.

"If you're sure, brother." Thor rises. "I will ask Father," he says as he is all but pushed out the door and into the corridor.

"You do that, Thor." Loki slams the door before he can say anything more.


	7. Frigga Gives Her Opinion

**It is Marvel Comics, not I, that own's the rights to The Avengers, and to the characters depicted in this story. I use them merely for my own enjoyment.**

**Special thanks to my co-writer on this: Daimeryan-Rei, you are the one who introduced me to this fandom. You are the genius of the longfic, and if it weren't for you this story wouldn't top 500 words.**

* * *

The door stays in Thor's mind. That extra door. Since when Loki, of all people, not wanted to pursue a mystery? Loki the curious, Loki who's ready to stay up full nights, poring over his dead books when there's a puzzle to be solved: Now he sees this new bit of magic, in a realm he's surely studied thoroughly during the weeks he's been visiting it, and he's going to dismiss it without thought, as "Odin's inferior magic"? Is it because he's still angry with Father, Thor thinks? Because there's no other reason he can find, for the change.

But there's more to his life than thinking about Loki. With his father firmly sure that he's the heir to the Throne of Asgard he has obligations aplenty. Not to mention the time he spends with his friends, and with his mother, who, it seems, is all the closer to him for not having her other son close as well. Thor sometimes feels torn in many ways, pulled this way to discuss a diplomatic agreement, and that way to hunt a boar or do a little friendly jousting, and then a third way at the same time, to visit his mother's apartments, or walk in the garden with her and talk.

"Your father thinks highly of you, Thor." Frigga has chosen the rose garden for their walk today. The gravel path leads between bushes that are blooming and fragrant. She pauses to cup a deep-red bloom, bending close to enjoy its scent, then she looks up at her son. "He is hoping to retire, once you are ready to govern in his place." Her voice is ever soft and gentle, but there's wisdom in her eyes that says she knows this is not Thor's own choice. "That was what you wanted once, wasn't it?"

Thor nods. Just the thought of his competing obligations, to Asgard, to Midgard, to his own brother, troubles him, and he drops down on the stone bench in the center of the garden, feeling suddenly tired.

"What happened to change you?" Frigga's brought a pair of shears out with her. She moves from bush to bush, clipping a few, just of the most perfect roses as she talks, but her attention never strays from her son. "Was it the woman? The Midgardian?"

The Midgardian. Asgardians don't think much of anyone who is not from Asgard themselves, Thor thinks. Even the King of Jotunheimr is but "a Frost Giant" to them. And Jane Foster is merely "the Midgardian." He knows his mother, at least, means no harm with it, and so he answers. "She's part of it."

A snip. A golden rose verging on orange falls into his mother's basket. Another snip. – This bush is heavy with perfect blooms. Frigga turns and gives him a fond smile. "There's more?"

Thor swallows. He wants to tell her about what he's seen on Midgard, about the energy he's found there, and the vast courage that lives in the frail, mortal bodies of the inhabitants. He opens his mouth, but the words don't come. He's never been good with words, not like...

"And what of Loki?" As always, his mother's skill at reading him comes as a surprise.

Thor stalls. "What do you mean? In what sense?"

Frigga gives him an amused smile. "You don't mince words well, my son. Diplomacy is a skill like any other, but it is not yours." Her smile fades, as she repeats, "and what of Loki?"

"My brother is good with everything I'm not. He manipulates words to hide his meaning. He makes plans, and carries them out, and reveals nothing." Thor pauses. Then, "he always wants what I have." It feels good to let it out for once, his mother a sympathetic listener. "He wanted the throne of Asgard when I was to get that. Then when my interests shifted to Midgard, suddenly he wanted to rule there. I can hide nothing from him, he's always one step ahead of me in his thinking. Even with Father's seal on his chambers, it doesn't feel like he's securely locked up."

His mother's blue eyes are warm with love. "And you want him locked up?"

"I want..." Thor stops. "I don't know what I want," he says. "I want my brother to be my brother again, instead of my adversary."

"I know." Frigga's voice is very low. "I want what you want, son. But Loki has changed, and I ...I am glad he's locked up too." She's standing stock-still, the basket hanging from her arm unattended, and the shears in her hand dangling limp. Suddenly she looks very old, and when Thor moves to hug her, it's as much for her support as for her comfort. They both move to the bench and sit down together.

"I've always thought of both of you as my sons." Thor aches at the pain he can hear in his mother's voice. "I'll never forget the day your father brought Loki back from icy Jotunheimr: The moment when I pulled the blanket back and saw his little face for the first time." A soft, reminiscent laugh. "Odin had him bundled up close, but I suppose as a Frost Giant, he really didn't need all those blankets."

"Mother." Thor searches for the words he wants to say, but they won't come. Instead, he just hugs his mother close.

"He won't even see your father," Frigga continues. "He says he was taken as a hostage, and time doesn't change that. I don't know. Perhaps if we'd told him about his parentage right from the start. But he was so little at the beginning. And by the time he grew old enough, we just thought of him as our Loki."

"It is Father who is at fault here." Thor speaks decisively. "You only did what any good woman would do, Mother. You saw a helpless baby, and you cared for him as your own. Father is the one who lied ...or kept the truth from him at least."

Frigga looks up, her eyes shooting angry sparks. "Your father is a good man. I won't hear a word against him."

"My apologies, Mother," Thor begins.


	8. As A Result of the Second Door

**It is Marvel Comics, not I, that own's the rights to The Avengers, and to the characters depicted in this story. I use them merely for my own enjoyment.**

**Special thanks to my co-writer on this: Daimeryan-Rei, you are the one who introduced me to this fandom. You are the genius of the longfic, and if it weren't for you this story wouldn't top 500 words.**

* * *

From behind him, before he can continue, another voice interrupts. "What is this? Who is saying words against who's father?" Odin's voice is genial. He smiles, as he comes around a row of bushes to join his wife and son, but his smile quickly fades when he sees them huddled together.

He drops to one knee beside Frigga. "What troubles you, wife?"

"We were talking of Loki." Before his mother can open her mouth, Thor speaks up. "Mother and I were both saying that we think it was wrong of you not to tell him the truth about his parentage."

"Both... Wrong?" Thor hears genuine confusion in his father's voice, and it surprises him. He is the All-Father. Are not all his decisions made with good reason? "Many's the time I have thought just as you do, son," Odin says at last in a low voice. "Even the ruler of the Nine Realms is not perfect."

Thor thinks he hears a sigh come from his father before he continues. "Was this a general conversation about Loki, or has he done something else, Thor?"

Something else? Thor snorts. "How could he do anything, Father? You have his chamber sealed."

"I don't underestimate your brother's magic." Standing, Odin puts out a hand, inviting Thor to join him. "Wife," he says, "I must take your companion. There are some diplomatic papers I want to show Thor."

As he leads the way down the path though, he continues their conversation. "Loki is smarter than any of us, and he is determined. He won't see me. – How am I to make him understand that I only ever wanted what was best for him, when he won't even see me? If he is determined to be an enemy, Thor, then I need to watch him as if he were an enemy. And I want to know: Have you seen him do anything recently?"

Thor thinks about the new Door. But that didn't have anything to do with Loki, did it? Didn't he say he knew nothing about it? For what his word is worth...

"I did see something, Father," he says. "When I was with Loki in the Other World you enchanted for him." As he speaks, they proceed down the corridor toward the Throne Room. Armed guards come to attention, opening the double doors for them. "He said it was nothing," Thor continues, "and I am sure he was right. Still, it was strange."

"What did you see?" Beside him, Odin appears shrunk with age. – Or is just his own adult height, Thor thinks? The All-Father usually gives all his audiences from the throne, even those with his own children. It is rare to get the opportunity just to walk with him like this.

He tells about the Door, about the black nothingness behind it. Ahead of them, the door to the Throne Room opens with a slam. Thor sees the red carpet, the guards standing at attention, their spears shouldered. Odin is looking at him, and he is looking back, and at first, they don't notice the change in the Throne Room.

Then he catches sight of a flash of green near the throne. Before he can say anything, Odin puts his hand on his arm. "Hist," he whispers. "Thor, do you notice anything strange about the guards?"

Thor looks at them and sees blank faces, closed, sleeping eyes. "They're asleep..." He looks at his father. "But how?"

"Say rather, _who_?" Odin says, and his gaze shifts, leading Thor's eyes toward the throne, and the occupant who is currently taking his ease there.

Loki in full battle armor is an intentionally provocative sight, the gold armor, the dark green cape, spread out to cover most of Odin's throne, the tall horned helmet and blue-glowing spear all complete. But his attitude is anything but warlike. In fact, he reclines, his back against one arm of the throne, and his legs slung over the other one. He's got a goblet in his hand, and a bemused-looking guard kneels next to him, holding a tray of fruit up to him. He laughs cheerfully as he sees his brother approach.

"Oh, Thor, Thor, Thor, when will you learn you can never out-think me? And Odin." – His smile tightens, just a little bit, as he turns his gaze to his father. – "The beneficent All-Father. Can I offer you a grape?" A wave of his hand, and the guard, enchanted, lifts the tray in Odin's direction. "Food always tastes so much better when it's enjoyed in freedom. I'm sure you've found the same. Would you care for some wine?" He waves his hand again and a goblet appears in Odin's hands, another in Thor's. "It's a modest vintage I like to call Chateau de Loki's Free And There's Nothing Odin Can Do About It."

"A challenge!" Thor's hand drops to Mjolnir at his belt, his goblet, unattended, rolling away to spill wine across the carpeted floor. "Loki, how dare you?"

"No challenge, brother." Loki sips a little of his own wine and looks coolly at his brother. "Say rather, a good-bye. After all Odin's wonderful hospitality," he murmurs, "how could I possibly take my leave without thanking him?"

"Loki, you must know I cannot let you go until I can trust you will not do more harm." Odin speaks gently, but he straightens into warlike posture, his hand going to his scabbard.

"_Let_ me? You talk of _letting_ me?" Loki stands up, He raises his spear. "How will you stop me, old man?"

"Son, don't make me do this." Odin sounds tired. More than that, he sounds sad, Thor thinks and, thinking it, he aches for his father. He draws his sword, the flaming blade of Surtur that is his by right of kingship. "We can fight. Maybe you are strong enough to beat me, but your brother will surely avenge me, and you will be stopped before you can leave the palace."

"Father? I have no father." Loki spits the words with venom. "You saw to that, old man. You took me from my faher and kept me hidden away with your other treasures, as spoils of war. Don't call me 'son'. Don't ever call me 'son'. You aren't worthy." He holds his spear at ready. In a moment he will attack, surely, and Thor pictures his father falling under the beam of blue light he saw destroy so many on Midgard.

"Loki please, don't do this." He's still gripping Mjolnir, his fingers so tight they hurt, but Thor forces his voice to remain calm. "You are my brother, but Father is my liege lord. If you strike him I will have no choice but to strike back."

"I am not your brother. I was never more than the All-Father's chattel, a stolen relic, raised for a purpose that doesn't matter anymore."

Thor hears a sadness in Loki's voice, and he wills himself to respond only to that, not to the upraised spear, its blue gem pointed straight at his father's chest. "You are my brother," he repeats. "Blood doesn't matter, compared with what's in the heart. I want you back, Loki. Father wants..." Hearing a snort from his brother, Thor re-phrases. "_Mother_ wants you back," he says.

"I won't serve the All-Father." Loki's voice is lower, but he doesn't bring his spear down.

"We only want you here because we love you." Thor hopes he is speaking the right words. "Your place is with us, in Asgard."

"A servant's place. Chattel to Odin, and then to his chosen heir after his passing. Whereas I was born to be a King. You speak pretty words, Thor, but they come down to nothing except subservience." He takes a step closer toward Odin, aiming his spear. "Kill me if you can," he tells Thor. "if you can stop me. I'll have the satisfaction of killing this old man first at any rate."

"My son." Surprised, Thor watches as their father steps away from his protection. He returns Surtur's blade to his sheath and walks toward Loki, his head bowed. "You are my son, though you will not admit it. Is my death really what you want most?"

Odin is unprotected, and very vulnerable-looking, in front of Loki, in full battle armor. His white head is bowed, exposing his neck, and his hands are out in appeal. Thor thinks about all the things he's heard his brother say about him. "Have a care, father," he cries, and he readies Mjolnir for an attack.

"No, Thor." Turning, their father motions for him to return the hammer to his belt. "Your brother is right. He is neither a child nor a possession. I cannot lock him up. I cannot force him to do my will." He looks back at Loki. "What is it you want, son? Is it to kill me? Will that make you happy?"

"I..." Loki's arm drops. For a moment he is unguarded; this is the moment for an attack, if there needs to be one,Thor thinks. Then he lifts his spear again. "What trickery is this? Your pose of weakness is impressive, All-Father. Diplomacy at its finest." There is still anger in his voice, but it's mixed now with something else. Confusion maybe? Shame? "What are you offering me besides the chance to be your subject again?"

"I am offering your freedom," Odin says simply. "I am giving you a chance at a man's choice: To make amends for the harm you have done, or to continue on the wrong path and earn your destruction."

Loki's snort of contempt is a shadow of its former self, a soft, almost gentle sound. "I think I am smart enough to avoid destruction."

"I think you are smart enough to know a good offer when you hear one." Odin puts out his hand. "The spear, son."

Loki puts it in his hand. "I am not your son," he says.

"Your father was a great warrior." Odin puts his hand on Loki's arm. "More than that, he was a man who sought for peace. It is to my shame as much as his that we failed to keep it. You must learn from our mistakes, Loki, and make better decisions than we did."

Thor, watching the scene, wants to scream to his father: "No! Don't believe him, don't trust him after what he just did!" Is this what diplomacy means, he wonders, taking the risk to trust someone, when they've already shown themselves ready to hurt you? How then, do kings manage to survive at all? Loki seems perfectly sincere in his acceptance though and, watching him, Thor allows himself to hope along with his father.

"I am to be free then?" he says, his voice still soft.

"I want you to learn." Odin does not withdraw his hand, nor does Loki pull away. "You cannot learn while locked up in your chambers. I have given you your freedom, Loki of Asgard. In return, I ask that you not betray my trust."

Silence follows, an eternity of silence, then Loki nods.

"I can visit the library now, I suppose?" His voice is its old mock-grumble again, not the angry tone of Loki the Rebel.

"As many times as you like, son, and whenever you like," Odin confirms.

Thor doesn't understand why this is the point where Loki conjures his battle armor away, but in his normal dark green and gold, his brother also _looks_ like his old self again.

"I'll can escort you there if you want," Thor offers.

His brother snorts. "You'll find it quite boring. Unlike the one in the Other World, this library _stays _a library." He looks up and meets Thor's gaze and his eyes are warm. Maybe there is reason to Odin's diplomacy, Thor thinks, after all.


End file.
